Starlight Rhapsody - Chapter 5
This story begins in 1946 in Boston, Massachusetts. The author was born in 1953 and never experienced life during the time in which the story takes place.
The concept for Starlight Rhapsody was conceived as I awoke one morning. I rushed to my PC to save the idea in a text file, and wound up staying at the PC for the entire day as the first four chapters literally wrote themselves. This novel is a complete work of fiction and the characters bear no resemblance to any real persons, living or dead. The main character's Christian name was chosen because it was the name of an online friend, but the use of his name is the only characteristic they have in common. I sincerely hope you will enjoy Starlight Rhapsody. It is a story filled with love, affection, friendships, relationships, competition and jubilation, however it was written as a same-sex love story without being pornographic. I cannot imagine that I could have written a different story with the same commitment and dedication I have given to this one. Those wishing to communicate with me about Starlight Rhapsody can do so at junkmail01801@gmail.com. If you like this story, be sure to make a donation to http://www.nifty.org so that authors like me continue to have a place to post our work so that you may enjoy them!
"Starlight Rhapsody "- Chapter 5
The next morning, Mike was rudely awakened by a 12 year-old pouncing on his bed.
"You little rascal!' Mike yelled at his brother. "I'll get you for that!"
Mike rolled out of bed, irritated and naked, and chased after Alex, but Alex had made it into his bathroom and locked the door before his brother could catch him. He grabbed his robe, put it on, and sat on his bed waiting for the little upstart to get out of his shower. Alex came out of the bathroom with his towel over his head drying his hair, enabling Mike to sneak up behind him and put him in a headlock.
"Don't you think you were just a little rude in the way you woke me up?" Mike asked.
"No, I thought it was funny!" Alex exclaimed.
"If I did that to you, you wouldn't think it was funny," Mike said. "Please, don't ever do that again. Shake me gently if you like, but don't pounce on my bed and especially don't pounce on top of me."
"You're serious?" the boy asked.
"Very," Mike responded. This was the first time he had to chastise his brother for doing something that annoyed him, and he wished the whole event hadn't occurred. "Now, get dressed in slacks, a nice shirt, and bring me a tie. It's time you learned how to tie it yourself."
"Oh, all right," Alex whined. He still thought the way he woke Mike up was funny. He got dressed and brought a matching tie in to his brother, who stood him in front of a mirror and showed him how to tie his cravat. Then, he untied it and made the boy tie it himself, as he had shown him. Alex's first attempt wound up in an odd knot, but Mike untied it and made him try again. The second time, Alex tied it successful. Mike told him to put his jacket on and to go downstairs. After taking his own shower and getting dressed, Mike joined his brother and mother for breakfast.
"Good morning, Mike," Krystal said with her usual sunny smile. "Are you ready to go shopping?"
"I think so," Mike replied. "I'm still getting over the rude awakening my little brother gave me this morning."
"Sorry," Alex said, somewhat sheepishly.
"We will walk Alex to his school, then head to the markets," Krystal told Mike. "Elena has made a list of things she needs to prepare meals, and I need to stop at the music store to buy Alex some sheet music that he will use for practicing the piano. I think the two of us can carry everything we need to bring back, but if there's too much, I'll just tell them to deliver it. Incidentally, here's some pocket money for yourself out of your first week's pay. Now, if you like, I can hold your money for you, or you can open an account at the bank for yourself and save your own money. It's up to you."
Krystal handed Mike a fifty-dollar bill.
"This is pocket money?" the young man asked.
"We agreed that I would pay you a hundred dollars a week to be your brother's governor," the lady began. Just because you are now both my sons does not change our agreement. Is that understood?"
"I just don't think it would be fair of me to take that much money from you every week," Mike answered. "You've given me a home, you feed me, you've become my mother, and now that Alex is my real brother, I'd feel guilty taking all that money from you."
"All right then," Krystal said. I'll tell you what. We will continue this discussion while we do our errands, then see what you think when we get home. Hurry up and finish breakfast. I don't want Alex to be late on his first day at school."
The guys finished their food, put on jackets and the trio departed. After a slow twenty-minute walk, they arrived at The Boston Academy. Krystal led them to the front office, introduced the secretary to Alex, who called to a student to show the new boy to his classroom. Krystal introduced Mike as Alex's older brother who may occasionally meet Alex after dismissal, so they would know who the young man was. After saying their goodbyes, Mike and his mother headed toward the market.
"Would you enjoy some tea?" Krystal asked Mike. "The markets don't open for another hour, so it would give us some time to talk."
"Fine," said Mike.
They headed to the tea room, ordered their tea, and seated themselves in a darkened corner.
"What are your plans for the future?" Krystal asked her older son. "What would you like to do with your life?"
"I really haven't given it much thought," Mike replied. "Originally, I was just going to work at St. Patrick's, but you made me a much better offer than the orphanage could ever make, so I took you up on it."
"If you could do anything in the world for a living, what would you like to do most?" Krystal asked.
"Anything?" Mike responded with another question. "If I could do anything I wanted, I think I would probably like to become a doctor. I always liked helping people, and you see how I've been with Alex."
"I think that would be an excellent choice for you to have as a career," his mother agreed. "Let's renegotiate our deal, shall we? How about if I pay you half of what we originally agreed as Alex's governor. We'll consider it a weekly allowance instead of pay, and I will put my older son through medical school."
"Are you serious?" Mike asked, not believing what his ears just heard.
"Absolutely," she replied. "When I signed those adoption papers and legally became your mother, I accepted the responsibility for your future, as well as the present. What sort of future might you have otherwise? One that wouldn't offer you many opportunities, I'd be willing to bet. You are my son now, and I feel I have to do whatever will prepare you for life when Alex becomes a man himself. If you want to become a doctor, apply yourself to your studies, then a doctor you will be."
Mike stood up from his seat, leaned across the table, and gave Krystal the best hug he could with the table between them, followed by a kiss on her cheek.
"You really are an amazing woman," Mike told her.
"Malarkey!" she exclaimed. "What the sense of me having all my money if I can't do the young men I love some good with it? I can't take it with me when my life is over, so I might as well use a little of it now to provide you and Alex with rewarding lives in the future. Now, come on. The markets will be opening, and if we get there first, we'll have our choice of the freshest items they have."
They both stood up and Mike followed Krystal out the door and to their first stop, McGinty's Market. McGinty's was a produce market where Krystal picked out an assortment of fruits and vegetables, checking for firmness, chose a few herbs and spices, paid for them and let Mike carry the bags. The next stop was Luigi's, a butcher shop. Looking at Elena's list, she chose several rib eye steaks, two whole chickens, 5 pounds of ground sirloin, a pork loin roast, and four pounds of veal cutlets. Mike couldn't fathom why she was buying so much food for only three people, but he figured it was her money and she would do with it as she wished. Krystal decided to have the meat order delivered, as they still had other stops to make. She paid for the meat, the she and Mike moved on to The Sailing Schooner, a fish market. Krystal chose several lobsters, five pounds of shrimp, three pounds of haddock, and five pounds of steamer clams.
"Are we having a clambake?" Mike inquired.
"We might," Krystal laughed. "No, you see, we only do this every couple of weeks. There's a walk-in freezer in the basement my late husband put in, so we stock up and Elena just goes down to the freezer the day before to thaw whatever she plans to serve for the following night's dinner. Some of these things can't be frozen, so we'll have them this evening. The lobsters and the clams have to be prepared and served today, but the shrimp and the haddock can be frozen."
Mike couldn't remember ever having eaten anything Krystal was buying in The Sailing Schooner, other than haddock, which he liked, but those lobster were moving! They were still alive! The young man didn't want to know what was involved with the preparation of lobster, fearful it would make him sick. Krystal paid the bill for her fish, grabbed one bag and handed the other to Mike. Naturally, the lobsters were in the one Mike got. They brought the groceries back to the house and delivered them to Elena to do whatever she normally does with them, and then adjourned to the little office Krystal maintained on the main level. She picked up the phone, searched her little book of contacts and dialed a number. It rang, and a man's voice answered.
"Charles?" Krystal asked. "Krystal O'Reilly. Listen Charles, I need a favor. I recently adopted a pair of young men, and the older one has decided he would like to study medicine. Might you have some time in your busy schedule for me to bring him in for an interview?"
"For you, Krystal," Charles replied, "anything!" When would you like to come?"
"Would two o'clock this afternoon be convenient?" Krystal asked the man.
"Let me see," the man answered as he looked at his schedule. "How about one-thirty? At two, I have a prior appointment."
"Fine, Charles," the lady said. "We'll see you then."
She hung up the phone and turned to Mike, saying, "The man I just spoke with is the Dean of Students at Harvard University. If all goes well with your interview this afternoon, you may begin your college education next term."
Mike couldn't believe what had just happened. He had no ideas of the connections his new mother had, but what she had accomplished in a few moments was nothing less than miraculous in his eyes. "Harvard," he thought. "Clearly Harvard was out of his league. Did Krystal really think he would fit in with the other students, and would they think he was smart enough to study medicine at the Ivy League institution?"
"You will need to go to the barber right now, which is a few doors down from The Sailing Schooner," Krystal said. "Get a haircut and a shave, because you won't have time to shave before we go to your interview. Pick up some men's cologne, too. Now, run along, because we have no time to spare!"
Mike did as he was told, and got his haircut and a shave. Looking at his reflection in the shop windows as he passed, he was pleased with the barber's work. His thoughts kept returning to his amazing mother. She had the courts make Alex her ward in the blink of an eye, had an adoption finalized in less than an hour, registered Alex in his school on the spot, and now, more than likely, she will have secured him a place with the next freshman class at Harvard University. He wondered what he did at any time during his nineteen years to deserve what Krystal was doing for him. Suddenly he stopped walking and thought he saw what appeared as a ghost in front of him, and thought he heard the voice of a child, telling him it was because he had love in his heart. The image and voice vanished as quickly as it appeared, and so the young man thought his imagination was playing tricks on him. He returned home to find an impressed Krystal with his hair and face, but being in a hurry, she dispatched him to dress in his suit, which he did, then ran back downstairs to rejoin her. They left immediately in Krystal's car, found a parking space on Mt. Auburn Street just out of Harvard Square, and headed to Charles's office, where they were warmly greeted by Mr. Charles S. Burwell, Dean of Medicine at Harvard University.
"Charles, it's so nice to see you," Krystal said. "This is my son, Michael, who tells me he would like to become a doctor.
Charles Burwell extended his hand to Mike, shook his hand, and turned to Krystal, saying, "Give me twenty minutes with this young man and I'll know what we might be able to do for him."
"Fine," Krystal replied. "If you don't mind, I'll just take a seat over there."
The Dean escorted Mike into his office and closed the door. Twenty minutes later, the two men came out of the office with Mike smiling like the cat that caught the canary.
"Your son may begin his studies here at the start of the next term. I'll have the admissions office send you the paperwork they'll need filled out, but before they send it, I'll put my stamp on each page. The papers will only be a formality, really. My stamp will indicate to the admissions people that I've already interviewed Michael and that he's already accepted as a new student."
"Thank you so much, Charles," Krystal said. "How is Mrs. Burwell these days? I haven't seen her since that soiree the MacGillicuddys threw for last year's Independence Day celebration. That reminds me, you know I've been meaning to call Hortense, but I've been so busy with the two young men coming into my life, and spending time at St. Patrick's, I just lose all track of time."
"Mrs. Burwell is just fine," her husband said. "Right now, she's on a cruise in the Bahamas. She just hates being in New England during the cooler seasons."
"Be sure to give her my regards," Krystal offered, "and thank you again for seeing Michael and me on such short notice. I hope to see you and your wife socially quite soon. Goodbye."
"Goodbye Krystal, and good luck with your new sons!" the Dean said.
"Thanks, Charles. I may need it!" Krystal exclaimed.
She and Mike hurried out of Dean Burwell's office and headed back to her car. On the way, Mike told her what he thought he saw and heard on the way back from the barbershop.
"Do you think I'm crazy?" Mike asked.
"Here's a better question. Do you think I'm crazy?" Krystal asked back.
"No, I think you are a wonderful and dynamic woman who knows all the right people in all the right places, and you know exactly who to call upon whenever you need or want something," Mike answered.
"Mike, there is more to me than you see," Krystal told the young man. "You see, I wasn't always a wealthy socialite. I came up the hard way. My biological mother was no more a woman of virtue than yours. You, Alex and I have far more in common than you two young men know. I am trusting you with this knowledge under the condition that you never reveal it to Alex. It will be my duty to tell him just as I am telling you, but I will do so when I believe the time is right. In the event of my death before I have the opportunity to tell him, then and only then, you may tell him what you now know. After my husband passed away, I was a lost and lonely woman. Oh, I had plenty of social contacts, went to many parties and charity functions, and plenty of men wished to take me out on dates, but I was still very much in love with the man I lost and I still am. By adopting you and Alex, two young men came into my life that I could love and cherish as my sons without feeling I'm betraying the love my husband had for me. I know, it's complicated, but it's how I see things. Setting up that interview with Charles Burwell was the least I could do for a young man who gives so much of himself to other people. You are truly an angel, my son."
What else could Mike have done at that point, but to show Krystal the love in his heart for her? He gave her a hug and kissed her cheek before saying, "No, Mom. You are the angel. Thank you for everything you've done for me, and it's only been five days!"
The two of them continued their conversation until they heard the front door close, signaling that Alex was home from school.
"How was school?" his mother and brother asked in unison.
"Oh, it was all right," the boy said. "Most of the teachers were OK, and a few of the boys talked to me during lunch, but there's this one lady teacher, Mrs. Appleton that none of the boys like, and I guess I don't like her either. They call her Mrs. Crabapple behind her back."
Mike made a mental note to have a talk with his brother about Mrs. Appleton.
"Tell me, how were the other boys?" Krystal asked. "Were they friendly or did they seem snobby?"
"Some of them were friendly because they wanted to know who I was and were I came from," said Alex. "Others kept to themselves, maybe because they'll ask their friends about me, I mean, the ones who did talk to me and find out who I am from them."
"You'll find out soon enough who your friends are," said Mike. "They'll want to hang out with you before school, after school, and at lunch. Just beware of the ones than are always seen together. You will never see one alone, only the whole group of them at once. They may be looking for trouble."
"I'll watch out for guys like those," said Alex.
"Did your teachers send you home with any homework?" Krystal inquired.
"Yeah, some math and English," the boy replied. "I have to read part of this stupid five-hundred year-old play about two guys named Romeo and Julius.
"That's Romeo and Juliet," Mike laughed. Even Krystal was forced to grin.
"I'll give you two options," Krystal offered. "You can do the homework now and have the rest of the evening free to do whatever you like, or you can do it after dinner and do whatever you like now.
"I'll do it now," the boy answered. "I might want to practice the piano, as you're going to give me a lesson tomorrow, and I haven't practiced since I've been here:"
"If you need any help with your homework, I'll be in the music room," Mike told his brother, also letting Krystal know she would be free and clear of both guys until dinner.
Mike knew he had to talk with Alex after dinner, first about Mrs. Appleton, and then tell him about his good fortune at being accepted to Harvard Medical School, but first he needed to relax. Upon reaching the music room, he turned on the lights, but instead of going to the popular section of Krystal's record collection, he went to the classical area. Knowing nothing about the music, he randomly pulled two collections of 78 rpm discs by Andre Kostelanetz and the Columbia Orchestra, one by Ravel and the other by Debussy, ironically both from the French Impressionist period. He stacked the discs on the player and pushed the button to start the record changer. The soothing sounds of Debussy's "Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun" invaded the room. Mike flopped down on a couch, closed his eyes, and let the music paint mental images in his mind. When the record ended, Mike began to think that there might actually be something to this classical music of which his brother was so enamored. The next disc dropped, and Mike listened to Ravel's "Pavane for a Dead Princess" in the same fashion. The young man was mesmerized. More beautiful images appeared in his mind as the record played. He had never experienced anything like this before! Next came Claude Debussy's famous "Clair de Lune," after which the record changer stopped. After just three records, the young man was hooked! There really was something appreciable about classical music, but he just hadn't discovered it! He put the Kostelanetz discs away, then went to the popular section, finding an album of 78 rpm discs entitled Milestones by Stan Kenton and his Orchestra. He took out "Eager Beaver" and "Intermission Riff" and put them on the player. The progressive sound of the Kenton band emanated from the speakers, causing Mike to dance with an imaginary partner. To say that the guy was feeling very happy was no exaggeration, but just then, Alex entered the room wanting help with a math problem.
"Can you help me with this?" he asked. "I don't get all this x and y stuff. The teacher called them `variables,' but I don't understand them.
"I was never great at math, but I think I can help you with this, little buddy," Mike replied. "Let me see what you're doing."
The problem read 2X + 2Y=10.
"I've never seen anything like this before," Alex whined. "It just doesn't make sense."
"What the equation is looking for is what two numbers could replace the X and Y to equal 10," Mike explained. "Two multiplied by 1 would equal two, so what number multiplied by two then added to two would equal ten?"
"Oh, so if I subtract two from ten, that would leave eight, which would be two multiplied by four, meaning that if X is 1, then Y has to be four," Alex replied.
"Yes, but those aren't the only possible combinations, so you have to figure them all out," Mike said. "Say that X is two. Two multiplied by two would equal four."
"If four is subtracted from ten, that would leave six, which would mean that Y would have to be three," Alex said, solving his own problem.
"Now you understand the equation," Mike said. "It's not hard, but it takes understanding. It's just like anything in life. A lot of the time, the hard part is understanding what's going on, but if you keep an open mind, it's a lot easier."
"All right," the boy said. "Let me go finish this math before Elena calls dinner."
Alex left and Mike played the Kenton records again but this time, instead of dancing, he just listened to them thinking of his brother. He knew Alex was really a smart boy, and even though he, himself lacked many experiences in life that others his age already had, he didn't feel poorly equipped to guide the boy to adulthood. He sensed that Krystal felt the same way, and was giving him great latitude with him. The Kenton records finished playing and Mike returned Milestones to its proper place. As he went to grab a Doris Day record, he heard Elena call for dinner. Turning everything off in the music room, he headed to the dining room. Everything served for dinner came from the Atlantic Ocean. There were steamed clams with broth, steamed lobster that had been already shelled, boiled new potatoes, and somewhere in the kitchen, Elena had found six ears of fresh corn on the cob that she also steamed. Alex knew Elena lived somewhere in the house, but was curious as to where.
`Where does Elena live?" the boy asked Krystal.
"There are housekeeper's quarters under your bedrooms," Krystal replied. "Elena lives there with her husband and her infant son. Her husband Paul is my groundskeeper. He mows the lawns, clears the snow from the driveway, and fixes little things around the house that need attention."
"It must cost you a fortune to have them working for you," Mike chimed in. "Hired help can't be cheap."
"I pay them a fair wage and give them a residence of their own with a private kitchen and bathroom in exchange for their services," Krystal told the guys. "Have you told Alex about your good fortune today?"
"Not yet, the young man said. "We need to talk after dinner anyway, so I had planned to tell him then."
"Tell me what?" Alex inquired, obviously curious.
"You'll find out when we go up to our rooms," his brother said.
The trio finished their dinner, full of Atlantic crustaceans, potatoes and corn. Krystal excused herself to make some phone calls, and the guys ascended the grand staircase to get to their rooms. Alex, too curious about Mike's news to remain in his own room, burst into his brother's room to get his curiosity satisfied.
"So tell me the good news," the youngster demanded. "What are you hiding from me?"
"Today, Mom asked me if I could be anything in the world, what would I choose to be," his brother said. "I said I would like to become a doctor, because I enjoy helping people. She believed me, because she sees how I am with you. She made a phone call to the Dean of Medicine at Harvard University when we got home from shopping, who was apparently one of her friends. He gave us an appointment at 1:30 this afternoon, interviewed me, and I will begin studying medicine at the beginning of next term at Harvard!"
"Wow! My big brother is going to be a doctor!" the boy exclaimed. "I guess Mom really has friends all over the place. That's great for you!"
"I'm glad you're happy for me," said Mike. "Now, I need to talk with you about Mrs. Appleton. Did you ever think that the woman puts her heart and soul into trying to teach you boys, yet what she hears behind her back is the boys making fun of her and calling her Mrs. Crabapple? Do you know how that must make her feel? Young people often forget that other people have feelings, too. Young people can be very cruel to people who have done nothing to deserve such cruelty. I might suggest that you, as a new student, avoid the trap set by the boys in your class and offer Mrs. Appleton a gesture of kindness. If you see her leaving the school carrying a lot of books and papers, offer to help her carry them to her car. When Mom give you your allowance, go buy a little vase, put a rose in it and give it to her. Little things like that make a person feel appreciated, and when people put their lives into helping others and they go unappreciated, it takes its toll on them, making them depressed and often crabby. Try being nice to the lady, and it might make her feel better about herself and she'll be a kinder and more likable teacher in the classroom."
"How do you know all these things?" Alex wanted to know.
"I guess I was just blessed with a sensitivity for people," Mike answered. "I'm hoping some of my ways will rub-off on my little brother!"
Alex gave his brother a hug and told him, "You're the best! Even my parents couldn't have given me a brother as good as the one I have now!"
The young boy ran into his room, undressed, hung up the clothes he was wearing and sat on his bed in his undershorts. Mike lay on his bed thinking about what he just said to Alex and his brother's response. He really didn't know how he had become so sensitive to the feelings of others, but he had no desire to be any different. He believed it could only help him in the future as a doctor, and he was truly grateful that Krystal cared about him and was willing to provide him with the best education he could obtain.
"Mike, how long will it take before you will be a doctor?" Alex wanted to know.
"Well, there's two years of liberal arts classes that are required from everyone," Mike said. "Then, there's two more years of pre-med classes that are all related to medicine, but don't really deal with actually practicing medicine, then two to four years of actual medical classes, so it could take six to eight years. Six if I don't choose a specialty and eight if I do, but I don't know what I would choose yet."
"It's really great for you," Alex said with sincerity. "It's too bad it will take so long for you to finish at the University."
"It will made six to eight years that I won't be leaving you and Mom," Mike told Alex. "It's probably for the best all around, because Mom will have us to keep her company, and we'll have each other through our education. You wondered how I knew the things I told you before when I mentions Mrs. Appleton, well there's just another example of my sensitivity to people's needs. The three of us need each other. It doesn't matter why we do, we just do, and it's up to us to provide support to others who need us. It's why God put us on the earth. Do you think much about God?"
"Sometimes," Alex replied. I think about God, but I think a lot of what's been written about Him is a lot of rubbish."
"I think so too," said Mike. God gave Moses His Ten Commandments. If he wanted more, Moses would have gotten more. I also think that Jesus' teachings in the Gospels is how God wants us to be with people. We're not supposed to judge other people for how they are, or what they do. That is between them and God. I kind of believe that faith is the relationship between a man and God, and that religion is full of politics and all kinds of stuff that people just made up over the ages. Don't you think it's rather strange that there are so many religions in the world? I think that one God revealed himself to different cultures in ways those cultures could comprehend, and that there is no single religion that can be considered to be the one true religion. It's faith in God and in Jesus that matters, not practicing a religion. How many people do you think attend church on Sunday and just go through the motions without ever thinking about God?"
"Probably many," the boy answered.
"Faith is between you and God," Mike continued. It has nothing to do with priests, ministers, rabbis, or any other clergyman. It's personal, one-on-one thing between you and Him."
Alex thought about what his brother was saying, and it all made perfect sense, but he had to ask, "If we think the way you said, does that make us Protestants instead of Catholics?"
"It doesn't make us anything but faithful," Mike responded. God will always love you, me, Krystal, and everyone else because He made us in His image. To remain in his grace, we just need to keep His Commandments, thank Him for our blessings, ask Him to fulfill our needs, both spiritually and materially, and when we feel guilt for something we have done, ask His forgiveness. After all, Jesus did say that whatever we ask of the Father in his name, the Father will give us, with the understanding that it must be the Father's will that we receive what we request of Him."
Alex wondered how the conversation turned to God, but he was glad it did. He often had questions about why things in church and at the orphanage were certain ways, but Mike's explanations satisfied his curiosity about God and religion. Mike even made more sense than Father Moriarty! Alex wasn't done with the subject by a long-shot, and without knowing it, Mike had opened a can of worms.
"Thanks for telling me all of this," Alex told Mike. "I think I'm going to start saying my prayers again before going to bed. I stopped when we left St. Patrick's, but everything you said makes sense. Maybe we should also offer a blessing before meals too?"
Mike realized his brother was taking what he had said quite seriously. He told Alex, "I don't think Mom would object if we offered a blessing before meals. We could take turns. When it's your turn, you can express your thanks for whatever good happened to you that day, Mom would express hers for the ways she thought she was blessed, and I would do the same. I think it's a great idea, little brother! Now you need to get ready for bed, as you have school in the morning. I can walk you to school, of you'd like."
Alex began peeling off his clothes, hanging up his slacks and putting everything else in the dirty laundry. He thought of putting on his robe, but deemed it unnecessary. He sat on his bed and said to Mike, "I won't need you to walk me to school. I can get there on my own. Besides, I don't want the other guys to think I'm a sissy because my big brother walks me to school."
"Nobody would think you're a sissy," Mike said. "There's no such thing anyway. Sure, there are people who are different than we are, but they don't deserve criticism because they are different. They deserve acceptance and tolerance from those of us in the mainstream. Think about it. Just suppose you were crippled permanently in your accident. That would make you different because you couldn't walk the same way almost everyone else does. It wouldn't have been your fault, but narrow-minded people wouldn't see it that way, and behind your back, they'd be treating you like the boys in school treat Mrs. Appleton. We must be kind to those who are different than we are, not because they are different, but because they are people, just like everyone else. Now get under you bed covers, turn out your light, and go to sleep so you can be up early, shower, and be ready for school on time. G'night, little brother."
"G'night, big brother," Alex responded, getting into bed. Turning out his light, the boy added, "I love you."
Mike replied, "I love you, too," and turned out his own light, as he left his room and headed toward the grand staircase. Reaching the bottom, he turned right toward the music room when he encountered Krystal coming out of her little office. Curious, she engaged him about his talk with Alex. He told her about Alex's joy upon learning of his acceptance at Harvard, their conversation about Mrs. Appleton and how he suggested offering the teacher a gesture of kindness, their talk about God and faith, and finally their discussion of tolerance for people with differences. Krystal couldn't have been happier.
"You make me proud that you have become my son," she said. "You are wiser than your years. I doubt the boy's natural father could have explained those issues of life as well as you did. I don't know from where you receive your inspiration, but you have a gift and you must not waste it."
"I don't know how or why I feel as I do about any of those things," Mike replied. "It's just who I am. You know, I feel as lucky to have you and Alex in my life as you seem to be that I am in yours and he does that I am in his. The three of us are lucky to have one another. I think we were all cut from the same cloth. We all have hearts, we give of ourselves to one another, and we share our lives and experiences with each other. I don't know that many natural families share the type of bond that exists between the three of us."
"You are probably correct in that assumption," Krystal said. Many natural families haven't suffered loss the way the three of us have, and that probably makes our bonds stronger. You never had a family, my family and my husband passed away, as did Alex's family. But that doesn't explain your intuitive views on life. That is a gift. Most people never understand life the way you do, and they certainly don't have the words to explain life to a boy the way you did."
"I know I get a great deal of love and respect from Alex, and so do you," the young man said. "You get it from both of us. Alex and I talked about prayer, and he wants to begin having us take turns saying a blessing before meals. I'm wondering if you taking the two of us in, then making us your sons wasn't as an answer to someone's prayer. Maybe you prayed for your loneliness and grief to pass. Maybe Alex prayed for his grief to subside. Maybe I prayed to have a place where I felt I belonged. We don't know God's plans for our lives until they happen, and when they do, we're not to question them but be thankful for them."
"I had no idea you were so spiritual," said Krystal. "Maybe that something else in your favor, but it's definitely not a detraction. Michael O' Reilly, you are a special, gifted man. You have become my son, and even if you didn't, it is a blessing to know you."
Mike blushed, gave Krystal a hug, grabbed her hand and dragged her to the music room. He went to the popular section and selected a few records, stacked them on the player, and pushed the button. The record dropped and Stan Kenton's "Eager Beaver" began to play. Mike bowed to his mother, then asked. "May I have this dance?" Krystal nodded and the two of them did a fancy fox-trot until the record ended. The next record dropped and Glenn Miller's "Chattanooga Choo-Choo" came from the speakers. Mother and son whirled and twirled to that one, too. They sat out the next record, which was The Charlie Parker Septet's recording, "Ornithology," prompting Krystal to comment, "I had no idea you liked bebop!"
"It's music," the young man said. "Today, I came down here and played some things I never heard before, and it was an experience, I must say. I found some records by some guy named Andre Kostelanetz, written by two guys I never heard of before, Debussy and Ravel. The records would play, I would close my eyes and the music would paint images in my mind, and they were beautiful, but the music and the images. That never happened to me before."
"Perhaps now, you understand why I have a classical section and a popular section in my music collection," Krystal explained. Because I enjoy dancing, I have the popular records, but the classical records take me out of this life as the music plays, and I visit places I've never been, see things I've never seen, and even if I've played the same records many times, it's always a new adventure."
"Maybe that's why the records I played this afternoon were so enjoyable, said Mike. As I listened, it was as though I wasn't in this room anymore, and that the music transported me to a beautiful and unfamiliar place. It was just wonderful!"
"Eventually, if Alex remains diligent with his piano studies, he will succeed in doing that for many people with his playing," Krystal stated. "The boy has real talent, but he needs to develop it. The notes on the pages are only guides, but what a listener hears comes from within. Think of one of those automatic pianos that use a perforated roll to play a song. It has the talent of the person who originally played the song when the master for making duplicate rolls was recorded, but every time a copy of the roll is played, it sounds exactly the same. That is what we do not wish to hear from Alex. The boy must learn technique and something I can't describe to you right now, but upon learning technique, he will eventually discover what else he needs to be a great concert artist."
"I assume you will teach him everything he will need to know?" Mike asked.
"No, a music teacher cannot teach everything about how to play an instrument," Krystal replied. "I can teach him reading, scales, keys, time signatures, fingering, use of the pedals, and many other things, but I cannot teach him execution. That is up to him to develop on his own, and it is something that is personal and makes two musicians playing the same instrument totally different from one another."
"Do you mean, like developing his own style," Mike asked.
"It's more than just style," Krystal replied. "When Alex discovers what I am talking about, you will be the first to know. I'm getting tired, and I have to write one short letter before I go to bed. Would you excuse me for the rest of the evening?"
"Of course," Mike told her. "I'll just put the records away and then I'll head to bed myself."
Krystal nodded, then made her exit. Mike filed the records where he found them, turned off the record player, then the lights and closed the door. He took his time getting back to his room, undressed, hung up his slacks and tossed the rest into his hamper. Something disturbed him, though. Everything seemed too perfect, as though he was actually living a dream. For a twelve year-old boy, Alex was perfect. He was sensitive, attentive, well-behaved, respectful, devoted, and smart. How many male twelve year-olds are that perfect? Krystal was an ideal adult, wealthy, kind, considerate, talented, knowledgeable, and very well connected and respected by her peers. That left him, and the two of them thought that he was perfect. Was he just imagining all of this, or was it 100% real? Then, he had another thought. It was really time for him to consider establishing a personal relationship for himself. He was, after all, a healthy human male, and healthy human males desire companions who fulfill needs other than those that are purely social and decided he had to begin making social contacts outside of his family. As he lie in bed, he said his nightly prayers, thanking God for his blessings and asking that God might choose for him an acceptable companion, after which he drifted off to sleep.
(to be continued)